


Reaper

by polaroidexit



Series: Your First Everything [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: College, Dreams and Nightmares, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Growing Up, Moving On, POV Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-05
Updated: 2018-10-05
Packaged: 2019-07-25 12:08:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16197233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/polaroidexit/pseuds/polaroidexit
Summary: There is a difference between acceptance and forgiveness.





	Reaper

**Author's Note:**

> Surprisingly, Stiles was the first one that truly accepted Theo — as well as his relationship with Liam — before anyone else did. First true acceptance of Theo Raeken besides Liam.

"We're supposed to take care of each other," The words left his mouth before he could stop it and the feeling of relief that washed over him afterwards in that instant was…nice. It felt simply nice, and nice easily combatted tiredness. It honestly gave him a sense of motivation.

Maybe he didn't need to feel exhausted every single day. Maybe he could finally rest. If he could just let out the words he has always wanted to say.

He wouldn't though. No one was there to listen anyway.

One minute, he was staring down at his heavy and dry hands in the nauseating hospital room as an excuse to meet his dad's eyes, then the next, he suddenly wasn't sitting in the creaky, crappy chair placed in the corner of the disgustingly bright room anymore.

"Stiles," A familiar voice called smoothly with a curl to the tone. He glanced around to find himself sitting in the middle of a classroom that belonged to his high school. Beacon Hills High School. Quite nostalgic.

"Been happy?" Erica asked idly as she came to sit down beside him, a seat close to the window, causing the warm-looking sunlight to hit her face at the perfect angle. He was alright lately. So he merely hummed in response.

Erica gave him one of those pretty smiles. It looked beautiful, perhaps due to the natural lighting from the low sun that felt quite magical in its own way.

"I want to play Catwoman, you will be my Batman, right?"

"Always."

He opened his eyes slowly to meet the dark covers of his dorm room bed. His nose felt prickly in a way that always was whenever he cried, and he quietly rose up in bed to wipe away the tear stains on his temple and cheeks.

"Fuck," He swore bitterly in the darkness. He couldn't stop the tears.

So he gave up on trying, letting them flow down from his swollen eyes and down his wet cheeks freely, his arms limp by his side now.

He did feel happy these days, his life had been pretty decent lately. It wasn't the most energized or fun college life that the popular people had but he felt good.

He has a pretty cooperative roommate. Classes are boring and tiring as expected but still on the bright side nonetheless. He has acquaintances around the campus and he still hangs out with the pack as well. He even goes over to study with the rest from time to time, regularly enough for them to form a routine as a study group.

The supernatural life was slowly drifting away, the end hanging onto him almost as if it was sad that he was the one leaving first.

He still helps out with researching when Scott asked for help or occasionally — and very surprisingly — Derek grumpily grunted for 'more detailed and specific information of a certain creature that had been roaming around Beacon Hills lately', which meant 'help' in the Derek Dictionary. The guy had gotten better over the few years though, it was no longer slapping a pile of paper onto your desk at midnight as a greeting.

His life is so much better than the one he had back in high school. So why was he curled up pathetically on his bed in the middle of the night as he silently cried? Why was he crying so much? Why did he feel so _sad_?

 

* * *

 

"No, but for serious though," Scott greeted as he sat down beside him in the public library. Of Beacon Hills. He'd come back to research with the others for some insane midnight creature that he'd rather not come in contact with. But well, he lived in Beacon Hills most of his life. Unfortunately, he's bound to have some connection with the place forever. The supernatural string will never be severed from his middle finger that he would gladly point at it in response.

He glanced up at Scott, who looked back with his usual puppy expression. "For serious what?" He drawled out as he returned back to his school work. Yes, he brought his school papers with him. Since he'd come back to research some creatures that creep creepily like a creepy creeper at night, why not finish his essays during the process? Multitasking, y'know.

"Are Liam and Theo in a relationship?" Scott asked in an obvious tone — cannot believe he still hadn't dropped the topic yet — while he spread out his school work out on the table as well. Stiles was genuinely surprised for a moment; Scott didn't study much. Well, he didn't in high school anyways.

"How would I know? Why would I?" Stiles quipped back absentmindedly, rereading a section in his book for the umpteenth time. He still found concentration a bit difficult.

"Well, do you  _think_ they are?"

Stiles sighed — resisting to roll his eyes; they've been through this conversation already — and stared at Scott firmly. "To be honest, I don't know and I don't _want_ to find out. I just don't care."

He returned to his book, his right hand twirling his pencil in slight adrenaline.

"You really don't care?" Scott sounded a bit dubious.

"Nope."

"Do you trust him now?"

"It has nothing to do with trust, Scotty." It really didn't. Trust was an argument that sat too far away from the entire situation.

It was silent for a while, the only sound being the flipping of pages and the scratches of pencils across papers.

"I guess I ambeing a bit overprotective," Scott finally admitted with a guilty pout. Stiles hummed back indifferently.

"I don't know what love smells like but Liam does smell happy lately." The statement had stayed on Stiles's mind for the rest of that day.

 

* * *

 

"Hey…" That was all he managed to get out breathlessly when he slid into the booth across from Scott before he dropped his head down onto the table in front of him.

Thank God this was a rather peaceful cafe. He wouldn't be able to bear if he walked into another loud-ass coffee shop this week. He doesn't need any more sassy girls shrieking attention-seeking Oh-My-God's into his ears, thank you very much. They were bleeding dutifully already— teenage girls' high-pitched screams were very damaging indeed.

"Hey, are you surviving okay?" Scott asked and he actually sounded sincere.

"I'm teetering. I'm on the verge of death. I'm dying," Stiles replied groggily, grimacing internally when he could actually feel his dark eyebags on his face.

"You _are_ passing, right?" He practically heard Scott's worried expression.

Stiles raised his head up to reply, only to hold back to face the waitress that served his order. She smiled back sympathetically and then left with a polite nod. He turned his gaze back on Scott.

"Yes, my efforts are worth it, I'm passing all of my _goddamn fucking stupid classes._ " He spat out the last few words with venom, internally cursing every single organism and object that came to support the system of education. Scott sipped his drink in response.

"You know, I didn't take you for someone who knew a place like this," He said lightly, changing the subject.

"Oh, well, Allison used to…you know," Scott trailed off awkwardly, giving a small smile as a result. So much for a topic change.

"Do you ever…" Stiles swallowed and looked away. "Do you ever dream about it? Of…her?" Scott looked down at his drink with glum eyes.

"Yeah. I do. It's—Not often but…yeah."

Stiles gulped, turning his head away and pretended to observe scenery outside the shop with curiosity instead. A weird yet comfortable silence followed after. They remained quiet for a while before Scott spoke up.

"You know what I noticed?"

Stiles gave a little shrug back, afraid of his voice shaking if he spoke. "You're quieter—calmer these days."

Stiles let out a laugh, surprising himself in the process. He took a deep breath and met his best friend's eyes. "I honestly thought the exact same about you."

Scott stared back at him with an unreadable expression for a split second before giving him a puppy smile. "I guess we both grew up."

"Yeah."

"By the way, the pack's thinking of gathering together for the entire break we're gonna get soon," Scott informed suddenly with a warm toothy grin. Stiles thumped his forehead against the coffee table with a thud once again, feeling extremely exhausted all of a sudden. The winter break sounded so fucking far away.

"We're gonna have a barbeque," Scott added enthusiastically.

"I will be there," Stiles replied and he practically felt Scott glow with joy. "If I'm still alive by then."

 

* * *

 

So Theo came along with Liam to the barbeque.

It was absolutely infuriating. Stiles had felt a million snarky remarks on his tongue but held back professionally with a straight face because he was a mature adult in all of that.

What was even more maddening was how Theo behaved. He wasn't as much of an ass anymore, he no longer flashed his enraging cocky smirk at anyone. He still snarked, a few times as a start to a small, meaningless argument.

That was when Stiles realized that, not only did the people that graduated high school with him had changed, the others did too. Everybody did. His dad, Melissa, Scott, Lydia, Liam, even Derek. Theo did as well.

Stiles stamped the whole thing as _pure bullcrap_ though. It was stupid, to embarrassingly realize how much he had actually cared about it.

At first, he thought if he stayed away and simply didn't put effort into caring about the entire shit of 'Liam and Theo, sitting in a tree', then he wouldn't get hurt. He chose to run away. It obviously didn't work, it never would've worked; he would still get hurt by a lot of things despite his pretence of ignorance.

The clichés never worked.

He'd witnessed Theo smile genuinely in front of Liam. Small but genuine. His eyes literally spoke sincerity and fucking love.

Stiles still hates him. He hates Theo Raeken to the very fucking core. He doesn't trust him either. He will never be able to forgive him, but he can accept him.

Acceptance. Something he's been learning to do. Might as well start with a test subject, right? Experiment No. 1; Theo fucking Raeken.

He could still remember how the leaves scrunched up under his feet with light crunchy sounds as he walked up to the Chimera that night, how the cold wind blew toward his face, causing a slight hitch to his breath. His shoulders filled with tension and stiffness as he shoved his hands further down his hoodie pocket, his fingers picking at the furry material inside with agitation.

Liam was out of sight, assumably playing a typical teenage drinking game somewhere with his best friend; the idiot taking advantage of his werewolf abilities and alcohol immunity of some sort. So that left Theo alone by the porch, the presumably-redeemed guy standing quite awkwardly with a beer bottle.

He knew Theo heard him before he even stepped out of the house since his heartbeat definitely gave that away, yet the other didn't turn around to face him. A million thoughts ran through his head at that exact moment as he stood there, breathing in the winter air while he stared at Theo's dark back in the night. Was he afraid of turning around? Was Theo afraid to face him? Surely not; there's only so much a human can do. Had the bastard finally had enough of snarking? Was Theo tired, just like him? If only.

Stiles had taken a breath, his nose scrunching up uncomfortably at the freezing air that assaulted his nostrils. He called Theo's name.

He would've never thought that Theo Raeken was capable of flinching. It was almost as if fear itself had grabbed the other by the shoulders. Stiles would never admit this out loud but he felt pure satisfaction pang him in the chest when he witnessed the jumpy reaction. There's only so much a human can do.

"Stiles," Theo had replied with a natural shine to his eyes in the dark. If Stiles didn't know better, he would've thought he was crying. It was kind of like seeing that quiet kid who attended the same grade school Scott and himself did. Except it wasn't him at all. Theo Raeken wasn't the same. He wasn't the same himself either. They had both changed.

Theo had changed; from the quiet kid that he used to know back in fourth grade to a manipulating asshole that had killed Scott, then to an indescribable prick in the end. Stiles still finds it difficult to figure out a certain enigma named Theo Raeken till this day.

_"Ugh, this sucks so much," Stiles complained as he slumped into the seat beside a boy named Theo, who was his assigned partner for a new English project. The teacher apparently found pairing students up with a person that wasn't their friend appealing and educating. He had groaned loudly when his teacher announced his name with another name that wasn't Scott's._

_The boy — Theo —  had glanced at him with awkwardly, clearly nervous by how he was fidgeting with his pencil. Stiles had mistaken the expression, though he wasn't sure as to what. Perhaps he thought the other looked hurt. "No, no! It's not you! I was just— I thought it probably would've been better if I was…paired with…Scott…" He trailed off when he realized he was only making the matter worse._

_Theo let out a small laugh, a practiced one. "It's fine," Theo had said meekly._

_Stiles gave a nervous laugh as he pretended to look busy by scanning over their criteria sheet for the project. "I mean, like— you should be the one that is— I don't know, annoyed. 'Cause I'm annoying, you know? A lot of people say I talk too much. I do. I really do talk too much and, yeah." There wasn't a response so Stiles gave in to curiosity and looked up. He was pretty surprised by the unexpected timid smile that Theo had given him._

_"It's okay, I…I like you, I don't mind the talking. I don't really like silence."_

They both made mistakes, they both had gotten blood on their hands. Stiles refused to sympathize and possible bond with the asshole by using those facts though, he simply didn't want to. His legs shivered in his cold jeans when he moved up to stand beside the other, who had stiffened furthermore with accessing eyes.

"Cheers," He said, holding up his own drink. Theo stared at him with what seemed to be cautiousness, then raised his arm hesitantly.

The sharp sound of bottles gently clanging against each other resounded in Stiles's ears.

 

* * *

 

"Stiles!" Erica called, sounding rather cheery. He raised himself up from where he was crouching in the vibrant grass field and turned toward the voice to find Erica jogging up to him with a bright smile.

"What were you looking at?"

He looked back down at the dandelions that danced in the green when a soft wave of wind blew past them swiftly. "Want to grant your wishes with me?" He asked as he picked up a dandelion, twirling the delicate flower between his fingers. Erica let out an adorable snort. "I don't believe in that stuff." She picked up one anyways.

Erica looked angelic as he watched the whiteness of the flowers engulf her into blankness. He wasn't crying this time when he snapped his eyes open.

**Author's Note:**

> Btw, I cannot believe there is such a tag as 'Mature Stiles Stilinski', I mean— of course he's mature. His dramatic actions do cover his mature side quite a lot though. Thank you for reading!  
> P.S. I apologize for not updating on Thiam's relationship itself, I will post a fic of the ship soon!


End file.
